


Reclamation

by thesinfulship



Category: DCU, Wonder Woman (2017)
Genre: A.R.G.U.S., Amnesia, F/M, Metahumans, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rescue Missions, Reunions, Steve Trevor Lives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-01 15:44:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18803344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesinfulship/pseuds/thesinfulship
Summary: Over one hundred years after his death, Diana is reunited with Steve Trevor. Trouble is, he's nothing like the man she knew...and may never be again.





	1. Chapter One

The brilliance of Paris in late springtime never failed to capture Diana’s heart. Vivid green leaves shook gently in the warm breeze, the last stubborn blossoms fluttering to the ground like snowflakes as the city slowly awakened in the soft gray and gold of dawn. Diana stood on her balcony, content to observe in silence and give thanks for another day in the world. Her tea and breakfast of fruit and a croissant sat on the table inside, forgotten in her distraction by the particular beauty of that morning. Such a distraction, in fact, that the sudden appearance of a friend by her side actually caught her off guard, made her jump.

“Sorry!” Barry Allen said, holding both hands up as though to show he meant no harm - something Diana obviously knew. “Sorry, sorry, I should have...I would have called or texted or something, I just…”

“It’s all right,” Diana assured him before greeting him with a welcoming hug. “I was lost in thought, that’s all.”

“How are you?”

Diana frowned slightly, though not at the question; rather, at the demeanor of the young man asking it. Barry looked exhausted, very pale, and had the distinctive trembling shake in his hands that meant he desperately needed to eat something. She took his hand and led him to the table, guiding him to sit in front of her breakfast.

“Huh? Oh - oh, no, this is yours. I’m fine,” Barry lied. 

“Barry, you need to eat. What’s the matter? Are you sick? Has something happened?” 

“No, I...I just need to talk to you.”

“Eat something first.”

Diana shoved the plate and tea closer to him and went to the kitchen to gather more food. Barry was just picking at the meal in front of him, hardly seeming to notice it. When Diana returned with an armful of everything from ice cream to leftover pasta to peanut butter, he was sitting very still. She immediately deposited the feast on the table and pressed a hand to his forehead to check for a temperature, which he did not have, but she noted that he leaned into her touch a bit. She sat beside him and took his hand.

“Barry, please. Tell me what’s wrong. And eat,” she insisted, relieved when he took a bite of croissant and a spoonful of peanut butter right from the jar. 

“Okay. Okay, so...so I did something maybe extremely stupid, but please don’t be mad.”

“I won’t.”

“Please promise.”

She squeezed his hand. “Barry. I promise.”

Barry took a breath, as well as a few more bites of food, before he went on.

“So, uh...so A.R.G.U.S. Always a safe bet they’re up to some bad stuff, right? Like, generally being awful people at best, possibly dooming entire populations at worst kind of stuff.”

Diana nodded.

“Right. So Bruce has some intel. Well, more like rumors, like ‘I heard from a guy who said he heard from a guy who used to work there’ type of rumors. About some kind of new weapon they’re developing. He doesn’t know much more than that, but we figure out the most likely place it’s being developed and we think hey, I bet we can figure out how to get in, because of course we can, so...I do.”

Diana waited patiently as Barry shoveled in some more food, glad to see his appetite must have been returning. If he kept eating at that pace for a few more minutes, maybe he’d get some color back in his cheeks and the tenseness in Diana’s shoulders would loosen.

“So anyway, yeah, I get into this place, and it is  _ creepy _ , first of all. It looks like some kind of extremely clean serial killer lair. And it’s totally underground, which, weird, but makes sense if you’re developing weapons. Bruce was having me do these super quick runs, just getting bits and pieces of info at a time, so nothing would be noticed or missed, you know? But one of the files I saw...it wasn’t about the weapon. I read it and I copied everything I could because it’s...it’s bad.”

“What was it about?”

Barry hesitated, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded-up stack of papers and passed them to Diana. 

“Kind of funny, this super-advanced group using paper files. But I guess it makes sense. Can’t be hacked. Easy to destroy if need be.”

Diana read the top page quickly and frowned.

“This looks like...Barry, they’re doing human experiments.”

“ _ Metahuman  _ experiments, to be exact. Sick stuff. This...patient? Prisoner? Anyway, this guy they’ve got, that file goes into what they’ve done to him. Starved him, tried to drown him, poison...and he just won’t die. I think they’re trying to figure out why and see if they can use his abilities for themselves.”

Diana skimmed over the next couple pages, feeling rage bubbling in her stomach as she took in the details of the torture this anonymous man had gone through. Barry’s eating slowed to a stop as he watched her read.

“Yeah, it’s...it’s a hard read,” he said, his voice quiet. “From what I can tell, he’s been there for months. Maybe a year. Some pages were missing, I think. And they don’t say exactly where he is.”

“Eat,” Diana gently commanded, standing to pace the room as she kept reading. 

The details were gruesome. There were no personal details apart from guesses as to his age and nationality, as apparently the man either would not or could not tell them his identity. He had been subjected to extreme temperatures, sleep deprivation, electric shocks, and any number of other tortures that could have been listed on the missing pages. Each experiment was meticulously recorded, clinically remarked upon, and Diana understood why Barry had been in such a state when he arrived. Just the thought of what that unknown man was being put through would have been enough to keep anyone awake for days. She took a break for a moment before looking at the last couple of pages and turned her eyes back to Barry.

“I didn’t tell Bruce about this,” Barry blurted out. “I don’t know why. I just...I sat on it all night and then came here. I guess I just thought you’d know what to do.”

“I’m glad you came here. But we do need to tell Bruce immediately and get him involved. He should be able to-“

Diana stopped short as she flipped to the last page of the smuggled file. If Barry had been pale when he arrived at her apartment, it was nothing to the stark white of her face as she felt the blood drain so rapidly she went dizzy. Barry was at her side in less than an instant, gripping her arm as if to stop her from falling over.

“Diana? What’s wrong?”

Diana sat slowly, Barry’s hand still holding her carefully, worry all over his face. She couldn’t speak right away, couldn’t even think of words in any language to express what was going through her head. She set the papers down on the table and stared at the small image on the last page, a color picture of the tormented man. 

It was a face she had not seen in over a century, but it was unmistakable. Any doubt she might have had was erased the second she saw the shocking blue of his eyes.

It was Steve Trevor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a general note, though there will be some exploration of what Steve has been put through, I never like to venture into anything gratuitously graphic. If you're sensitive or squeamish, you shouldn't have to worry too much about the content of this fic - things will be discussed, but not in gory detail, so to speak.


	2. Chapter Two

Spring in Gotham was not like spring in Paris. In Gotham, the winter seemed to cling for as long as possible, letting out a last icy rattle before thawing straight into summer. Fogged breaths would turn to steam in what felt like no time at all, and that transitional period between seasons always left the population even more on edge than usual. It was during these tense days that Diana stayed at the manor with Bruce Wayne and his patchwork quilt of a family, spending every spare moment in front of the endless monitors in the cave, looking for just a glimmer of information that might lead her to Steve. 

She hadn’t called ahead to say she was coming, hadn’t so much as asked permission to stay. After the shock of seeing Steve’s face in that file had worn off enough to allow her to speak, she had simply told Barry to run her there. She could fly, but he was faster, and she couldn’t bear the idea of wasting one instant. Bruce had taken one look at Diana’s stricken face and snapped into action immediately with Alfred close on his heels. It wasn’t until they were safely in the cave that he even asked what she needed. Barry had filled in the blanks whenever Diana needed to take a breath, Alfred had pressed a mug of his personal blend of tea into her hands, and before she knew it, two days of near-endless searching had passed. 

She felt like she was losing her grip on more than one occasion over those days. She had stopped and stared at the photo so many times, as though it might have changed since she last looked, as though she’d look down and suddenly see a face she didn’t recognize. A face that hadn’t haunted her heart for the past century. Every time she glanced at the picture, her breath caught in her throat. His hair had been buzzed off, stubble grew too long on his face, and he looked thin and drawn in a way he never had when Diana had known him, but there was no mistaking him. 

It was at one of those moments, one of those times she stopped staring at the wall of screens and went back to staring at that photograph, that she felt Bruce’s hand on her shoulder. 

“Take a break,” he said. He knew better than to try and order Diana around, but his tone was not to be argued with. “Eat something. Alfred’s making gnocchi.” 

“I’m not hungry,” said Diana, but she pushed the file aside all the same. 

Bruce leaned against the desk with his arms crossed. “I’ve got Tim working on this as of about an hour ago. He’s optimistic.”

“Thank you.”

Bruce nodded, still looking closely at Diana. The two of them could sit in silence for hours without it being a problem, so accustomed were they both to each other’s body language and rhythms, but there was something analytical in his quietness then that made Diana feel restless. 

“What is it, Bruce?” she asked. 

“I know where you’re coming from. I know something about how this feels,” he said simply. “It’s not the same situation, of course, or remotely the same circumstances, but...just so you know, I’ve been here.”

Of course. Diana closed her eyes for a moment, because she couldn’t quite look at him as she tried to fathom how it would feel to lose his own children and get them back in the various ways he had over the years. It was not something he liked to discuss, and Diana was beginning to understand much better why that was. 

“Anyway,” Bruce went on, already wanting to move past the topic. “Don’t tell Alfred that I said he was right, but it is necessary to eat and sleep if you want to be any good to Steve Trevor once you track him down. So whether you join us all upstairs for dinner or he brings you a plate, one way or another you’re having some gnocchi. Especially since he’s using your recipe.”

Diana sighed and stood, knowing he was right and knowing it would likely do her some good to spend a little time with whichever members of the odd family had assembled for that night’s meal. She followed Bruce upstairs, smoothing her hair and clothes as she went, and by the time she walked into the dining room she was beaming at the loud greeting she received. Dick Grayson’s arms were firmly wrapped around her in a tight hug before she was halfway across the room, Damian had stood politely to say hello, and Stephanie had made a high squeaking sound of delight and rushed over to give Diana’s hands a squeeze. It was impossible to stay in bad spirits around Stephanie Brown. 

And, unsurprisingly, Alfred had managed to improve upon Diana’s nearly-perfect gnocchi. 

A few glasses of wine, seconds on dinner, and a long conversation with Damian about the new exhibition at the Louvre later, and Diana felt knots beginning to loosen in her shoulders, despite everything. It felt good to be distracted for an hour or two, even if it might have come with a side of guilt. She reminded herself, though, that searches were still being run, that information was still being processed, even as she sat speaking in Arabic with Damian at length on the topic of the ethics of acquisition. Just when she thought she might take Stephanie up on her offer of ice cream and a movie, Bruce’s hand had returned to her shoulder. 

“Tim’s got something,” he said softly. 

In an instant, Diana was back to business, back in the cave, standing in front of the monitors yet again. This time, Tim stood there as well, arms crossed and quiet. He nodded to Diana but remained silent until Bruce prompted him to share his findings. Tim pulled up several maps and some complicated-looking code.

“So, from what I can tell, your guy is here,” he said, zooming in on a location. “Which is good, because as far as actual geography goes, that’s easy enough to access. But finding him isn’t so much the problem as getting him out.”

“What can you tell about the facility itself?” Diana asked. 

“Next to nothing, unfortunately. That’s where they’re as good as I am when it comes to computers. I’ll keep trying, but…”

“How quickly can you get us there?” Diana demanded, now turning to Bruce. 

“Maybe three hours. But what exactly do we do when we get there?” said Bruce.

“We get in, find Steve, and get him out. What do you mean what do we do?”

“We have no idea what the place is like, the layout, anything.”

“We send Barry in once we know the layout, then.”

“There’s no telling what else could be down there or what security measures they’ve taken. Fast is great until he has to slow down.”

“If we’re there for backup…”

“Diana, we can’t just go in with guns blazing if we have no information.”

“Can I suggest something?” Tim piped up.

Diana and Bruce turned to Tim, waiting. Tim sat down and pulled up an image of an ID card. 

“Call Vic. Get him to make you up something like this. Between me, him, and Barbara, we can probably get you in the door with no problem. All you need is a decent disguise and cover. Say you’re moving the subject to another location. Anyone gives you trouble, cite security clearance and put them in their place. We can probably even re-route any calls to one of us in case they decide to try and check up on the story. It’s not perfect, but it’s safer than just barging in there and it’ll buy you at least a head start. And then if it does go belly up once you’re in, at least you’re already in, right?”

Diana and Bruce exchanged a look, then Bruce clapped a hand on Tim’s back. 

“I’ll get in touch with Vic,” he said, giving Tim an approving nod. “Diana, you should be the one to go in. I can be backup, but I might be too recognizable to follow you in. Maybe Barry.”

“Thank you, Tim,” said Diana as Bruce moved away to start making arrangements. 

Tim smiled just a little. “Yeah, sure. No problem.”

“I mean it. You’re very kind to help, and I appreciate it greatly.”

Tim’s smile widened, softening his features and showing off what a handsome young man he really was. No wonder Stephanie got so starry-eyed when she looked at him. He gave a humble nod and turned back to the computers, leaping back into action. Diana watched him for a moment, then quietly retreated to go up to her room. 

She needed a moment to think. She needed a moment to breathe. She needed a moment to process the fact that in a very short time, she could be face-to-face with Steve Trevor once again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where I'm going to firmly diverge from the cinematic universe, mainly because I am a firm believer that Batman needs a Robin - or several. I like the Batfamily and I just cannot get on board with a completely solo Bruce Wayne. So from here on out you'll see a little bit of the comics thrown in here and there as I pick and choose my own canon.


	3. Chapter Three

“Not that you don’t look good, but it is  _ weird  _ to see you with such light hair.”

Barry leaned against the frame of the bathroom door, arms crossed as he watched Diana adjust the wig she had put on to disguise herself from anyone who might recognize her. It wasn’t an extreme difference - just a lighter shade of brown that didn’t quite suit her skin tone as well as her natural dark waves did. Paired with some glasses, however, it served to change her appearance just enough to pass. Barry only had to don a cap to go undetected since he wore a mask in his Flash persona, but the uniform and boots he wore made him look much older and more official as well. 

Diana glanced at him. “How long until we land?”

“About twenty minutes. You doing okay?”

She nodded. “IDs?”

Barry held them up and passed one to her, which contained her cover identity and all the credentials she would need to satisfy the security of the A.R.G.U.S. facility they were about to infiltrate. 

“This should be easy. Get in, convince Steve to trust us and go calmly, get out, get away before they figure out what’s happened,” said Diana, more to convince herself than Barry. 

“Yup. Scoot on back to the cave, get him squared away, put the fear of God into Amanda Waller if she messes with us, and live happily ever after,” said Barry. 

“That’s right.”

Barry gave Diana a little squeeze of the shoulder to reassure her, and it was all she could do to keep from pulling him in for a tight hug. She closed her eyes to focus herself, and by the time they touched down, she was fully prepared to walk into the underground facility. 

Getting in was easy, as she had predicted. Between Vic, Tim, and Barbara, their credentials and their digital trail were nearly flawless, and in no time at all, Diana and Barry were greeted by a man who had one of those faces that always looked mildly suspicious of everything. 

“May I ask exactly what this is in regards to? We had an inspection just last Wednesday,” said the man, frowning hard at Barry in particular. 

Diana raised an eyebrow. “Just what has happened since last Wednesday that would have you so concerned about a follow-up?”

The man sputtered, and Barry took the opportunity to jump in. “Where is Subject 36783B9?”

“And why exactly do you need to know that?”

“Because - exactly - we are extracting him from this facility and moving him elsewhere. The purposes of which are above your security clearance. So unless you want Waller breathing down your neck, you’ll take us to Subject 36783B9 immediately, allow my partner to speak with him, and step aside as we take him to a location that is also above your security clearance.”

Diana felt a surge of pride toward Barry, though of course she did not show it on her face. Barry stood eye-to-eye with the man and did not flinch once, a far cry from the nervous young man he had been when they first met. After a moment, the man finally relented and began to lead them down a labyrinth of hallways. When they reached the most secure area yet, he handed Diana a folding chair. 

“In case you feel like taking a load off while you steal our most important research,” he said in a nasty tone. Diana didn’t even register it, but Barry looked like he was holding back the urge to land a punch on the man’s jaw. “Best be quick about it.”

“Thank you,” said Diana, and when the man opened the door, she stepped inside. 

The room was as stark and cold as a prison cell. In one corner stood a sink, toilet, and showerhead all in one, with no privacy. In the other stood a hard-looking cot, and on top of the cot was, unmistakably, Steve Trevor. 

He lay there completely still, facing the wall, curled into himself like a child. Diana unfolded the chair and sat down, and it wasn’t until she was sitting that he seemed to realize anyone else was in the room. He rolled over slowly and looked at her, his unmistakable eyes framed with red. For the first time in a century, Diana heard Steve Trevor speak.

“So you’re the pretty lady,” he mumbled.

“I beg your pardon?” Diana said, trying not to betray her feelings.

“Classic technique. Get a guy close to breaking at the hands of some ugly men, send in a gorgeous woman to soften him up. Bonus points if she reminds him of his mother, Oedipal as that may be, although joke's on you since I don't remember my mother."

“I’m not the pretty lady.”

“Mm. Objectively untrue.”

“I’m here to-”

“Oh, no need to explain. I get it. We’re going  _ that  _ route. You’re about to tell me I don’t belong here, that you’re here to help, right? Clearly I’m a good guy and I should be free. You can help make that happen. All I have to do is agree to work for you. Sign here and I’m free except for the part where you can yank that chain at any time and I have to do your bidding.”

“I am not-“

“Fuck you. Ma’am.”

Steve had never, not once, ever spoken to Diana harshly like that, and it felt like a knife in the gut. If she weren’t so preoccupied with the shock and disbelief that he was actually right there, four feet away, she would have been far more hurt.

“Please listen to me,” she said in her gentlest tone. “My name is Diana. I am here to help, truly. You are right, you don’t belong here, and I am going to get you out. But that means you must trust me and come with me and my associate calmly. We cannot arouse any suspicion. Once we have you out of here and safe, I promise that I will explain everything. I will answer all of your questions. But please...please, trust me.”

Steve stared her down, and Diana was reminded that the man had been one hell of a soldier in his day. He sighed.

“Guess I don’t have much choice.”

“You do have a choice. I will not force you to leave. But if I leave without you now, my cover will be blown, and it will likely make it much harder to ever try to rescue you again.”

“Rescue,” he said, a scoff in his voice. “So that’s what it is”

“Please,” Diana repeated.

Steve sighed again and stood. “Fine.”

He was as tall as Diana remembered, even with the slight stoop to his posture and the loss of muscle mass that had come with this imprisonment. Still, there was a pride in his stance, a broadening of his body as he faced her, to show that he was not afraid. Diana glanced down past the simple scrubs-like outfit he wore.

“Where are your shoes?”

He shrugged. “Never got any.”

A flash of a fantasy of crushing Steve’s tormentors beneath her boots crossed Diana’s mind, but outwardly she simply stood and folded the chair she had brought in with her. 

“I am going to take your left arm,” said Diana, very gingerly placing her hand around his upper arm. “When we step out of the room, my associate will take your right. We will move quickly and board a plane outside. Once we’re there, I can answer any questions you have.”

“Understood.”

Diana nodded and led Steve to the door, where she knocked sharply. The door opened and Barry immediately assumed his role, taking Steve’s arm as planned. Guarded by several silent, official, intimidating-looking men - though notably none were the one who had led them there in the first place - they made their way back to the entrance of the facility. Diana’s heart hammered as they left the place, as they neared the plane.

They had gotten him out.

At the door of the plane, Steve turned toward Diana and raised his wrists up to her. When she realized what he was doing, she shook her head. 

“You’re - you’re not going to cuff me?” Steve asked, confused. 

“No. We are not going to cuff you. Please, make yourself comfortable.”

Steve hesitated, as though trying to assess if it was a trick, then made his way onto the plane. He stared as he found a seat, and it occurred to Diana that of course he would never have seen a plane like this before. When he sat against the plush cushions, his eyes closed. It was clearly the most comfortable thing he had ever felt in over a year, and his body was unaccustomed to even the slightest softness. 

It made the rage in Diana’s chest flare all over again.

She pushed the anger aside and spoke to Steve gently. “Would you like something to eat? To drink?”

Steve shook his head. 

“Some water, at least?” she insisted. 

“I - sure.”

Diana got him a bottle just as they began to move. Steve gripped the armrest nervously, but he disguised it well. He barely spilled a drop as they took off. Diana took the seat opposite him while Barry hovered to the side, looking from one face to the other like he was watching a tennis match. 

“So,” Steve said after a moment. “Who the hell are you people really?”

“I was telling the truth when I said my name is Diana. Diana Prince. I work with some very powerful people, some of whom you will be meeting shortly. By day, however, I work at the Louvre in Paris. It’s...a cover, but also a real life.”

"The Louvre," Steve repeated dully. 

“And I’m Barry. Hi,” said Barry, holding out his hand to shake Steve’s. 

“You also work at the Louvre?” asked Steve as he hesitantly shook Barry’s hand, his tone making it clear he doesn't quite believe Diana. 

“Oh, me? No. Nah, I’m a scientist,” said Barry proudly. When Steve automatically tensed, Barry’s eyes went wide. “Oh, no, not like - you know. Not like those guys. Back there. I’m like a good-guy scientist type.”

Steve fell silent, the eerie stillness he had showed back in his cell returning as he stared out the window. Diana took a seat nearby, but gave him some space, and Barry did the same.

“Where exactly are you taking me?” Steve asked after several minutes.

“To someone we can trust. You will be safe there. And free,” said Diana. 

“Free, huh?”

“Yes. No more cell.”

“I bet I’ll even have shoes,” he muttered bitterly.

“You will have anything you need. Anything you want.”

“Listen, ma’am, you’re doing a good job of seeming very sweet, but forgive me if I don’t entirely buy this whole act.”

“I know you have no reason to trust us. Not yet. But I promise you, you can. You will see.”

“Suppose I will.”

Steve crossed his arms and closed his eyes, his exhausted body drifting to sleep in seconds. Diana pushes aside the ache in her heart as she looked at him. He had changed, yes, but seeing him sleeping like that reminded her so much of…

No. She would not allow that to enter her memory. Not when there were more important things to worry about.


	4. Chapter Four

Steve slept hard during the flight, not so much as shifting once in his seat. It was not until they had fully touched down that his eyes opened, though he did not exactly hurry to get up. He squinted and peered out the window. 

“Where are we?” he asked, voice hoarse from sleep. “Looks underground.”

“In Gotham,” said Diana as the plane came to a stop. “This is a secret, secure location owned and maintained by a friend of mine.”

A blur, the banging of the plane’s door, and a breeze later, and Barry stood in front of Steve holding out a pair of dingy sneakers. 

“I, uh...it’s kind of cold in the cave, and I think we wear about the same size, so…” said Barry. 

Steve just stared at him. “How did you -”

“I’m really fast.”

He still looked suspicious of Barry, but Steve took the sneakers all the same and shoved his feet into them without bothering to untie them. He finally stood, very slowly, and took a breath before following Barry and Diana off of the plane and into the cave. Although the cave was a wonderland for most first-time visitors, Steve did not seem terribly interested in marveling at the surroundings; rather, he shuffled quietly along, focusing on the sight of Bruce approaching them. 

“Everything went smoothly, I assume,” said Bruce. 

“Yes,” said Diana. “Bruce Wayne, may I introduce-”

“Subject 36783B9,” said Steve dully. “Charmed, I’m sure.”

To his credit, Bruce didn’t flinch. “Glad to see you made it all right.”

Diana had long since pulled off the wig and glasses from her disguise, but now she shook her hair down from its pins before tying it back up. Steve glanced at her as though about to ask her something, but seemed to forget his train of thought before he reached his mouth. He looked away from her and back to Bruce. 

“All I know is that I’m in a cave in Gotham for reasons still unknown, so...all right seems relative.”

Bruce jerked his head to indicate that they should follow him, and they did. 

“I’m sure this is all overwhelming,” said Bruce as he led the group. “But rest assured, you’re much safer here than you would be just about anywhere else. This is pretty much one of the most secure places you’ll ever find, and not just in Gotham, either. Plus, you’ll be around some of the most highly-skilled, highly-trained fighters on the planet, so you’re perfectly safe from A.R.G.U.S. here.”

“You people keep saying things like that,” said Steve. “Call me crazy, but it doesn’t exactly make me feel safe to hear you repeat that I’m safe over and over again. Sort of seems more like you-”

Steve stopped short, freezing in his tracks. Diana turned to look at him, concerned. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked. 

Steve was staring past her, toward the med bay where Bruce was leading them, which had just become visible. He stood as still, as stiff as marble, and Diana could see the tenseness in his muscles as his eyes flickered around, taking in the sight of medical equipment all around. She realized what it was he was seeing, what he must be thinking, and stepped slowly toward him. 

“It’s all right,” she whispered. “Look at me.”

He would not turn his eyes toward her, so she took another step closer. 

“It’s not what you’re thinking. That’s not for hurting people. No experiments here, I promise you.”

“You have our word,” Bruce chimed in. “I had wanted to give you a once-over and check your vitals, but that can wait.”

“Steve,” said Diana, using his name with him for the first time. 

It was that name, that word that made Steve look at her, startled. 

“What?” he breathed. 

“Steve,” Diana repeated. 

“Who’s...is that my…”

“Steve Trevor. Yes.”

His shoulders relaxed by the barest fraction, and Diana was able to step still closer. 

“Steve, no one is going to hurt you here,” she said softly so that only he could hear. “I made you a promise.”

“Okay,” said Steve. He took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay. Yeah. Okay.”

“How about we get you cleaned up and into some new clothes? There’s a shower just over there, very private. There are plenty of clothes here that you’re welcome to. Then you can have something to eat, if you’re hungry,” Diana suggested. 

“Yes. Anything you want,” said Bruce. 

“I don’t, uh...I’ll eat anything. I’m not picky,” said Steve. 

“Soap, shampoo, razor, anything else you might need is all in there. Take your time. We don’t run out of hot water here.”

“It’s true,” said Barry. “I should know. I tend to stage full-length concerts in the shower here. I’ve won several imaginary Grammys and never gotten a cold blast even once.”

“Grammys?” Steve repeated, confused. 

“I’ll explain later.”

“Come on. I’ll show you where everything is. Diana, why don’t you put in a lunch order upstairs?” Bruce suggested. 

She was not eager to leave Steve’s side, but the possibility that he might be uncomfortable exploring a shower with her nearby was understandable enough. She nodded and gave Steve a reassuring smile, then headed upstairs with Barry to track down Alfred in the kitchen. They updated the older man with their success, and Diana decided a simple soup and toast with some fresh fruit would probably be the safest bet. She couldn’t imagine what Steve had been living on in that secret facility for all that time. By the time she returned to the cave with a tray, Steve was sitting and allowing Bruce to take his blood pressure. 

Diana’s heart skipped at the sight of Steve then, because he looked like  _ Steve _ . Steve as she remembered. Steve with a clean-shaven jaw, with well-fitting clothes, with color in his cheeks. Worn and thin though he may have been, it was Steve. Her Steve. Time suddenly tied itself into a knot as she walked toward him, a hundred years passed in an instant and looped right back around onto themselves, and it was Captain Steve Trevor sitting before her all over again. 

“Ah, Diana. Good timing,” said Bruce, removing the cuff. He dragged a small folding table over for Steve. “Smells good. Alfred’s minestrone?”

“One of his many specialties,” said Diana. 

Steve looked at the food like it was the most incomprehensible thing he had yet seen, and he glanced up at Diana as though waiting for permission. 

“Please, Steve. Eat. There’s no ceremony to stand on.”

Steve grabbed the spoon and immediately began to tuck in, making a sound of disbelief at the taste. Once he had a few good bites in, Diana sat near him. 

“May I ask you some questions?”

“Mm. If I can ask you some,” said Steve, tearing into the toast. 

“Of course.”

“Go on.”

“Do you remember anything about your life before?”

“Some things,” said Steve through a mouthful. “I remember a farm. I think I might remember my father, sort of. Just bits and pieces. I know I was a pilot.”

“You remember that?”

He nodded. “Though I didn’t fly planes like you have around here.”

“What’s the very last thing you remember?”

He thought for a moment, pushing his soup around to find more of the beans. “I was in a plane and I crashed. Into the ocean.”

His memories stopped the moment before Diana had found him. His memories, what little he had, ended without including her. 

“So, can I ask you something?” asked Steve. 

“Yes. Please.”

“Why do you care about me? I mean, I’m...I don’t know you. We don’t have a connection, do we?”

Diana glanced at Bruce, silently communicating. Bruce nodded and walked away to fetch what they needed, and Diana turned back to Steve. 

“We do, actually. Steve, what year is it?”

“I don’t know.”

“What year do you last remember?”

“1918. But I have a feeling it’s a few years past that. Call it a hunch,” he said, gesturing around at the obscene display of technology that surrounded them.

“It is 2019 now.”

“Well, damn. So...how do we know each other, then?”

“I am about to tell you some things about myself that are...probably going to sound quite unbelievable.” 

“Try me.”

“All right,” said Diana, taking a breath and leaning toward him. “The ocean you crashed into was just outside of my home. I...I pulled you out.”

Steve shook his head. “But that was over a hundred years ago, apparently. How can you still be here?”

“You’re still here.”

“Touche.”

“What exactly I am is somewhat undefinable, but I am not human.”

“Am I?”

It was the first time she had ever heard the man sound almost timid, and it felt like an arrow shooting into Diana’s heart, but she gave him a warm smile. 

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, you are.”

“And what are you?”

“A demi-goddess is the simplest way to explain it.”

“Huh. Well. Sounds interesting.”

He sounded so much like her Steve at that moment that her smile grew and became genuine. Bruce returned, carrying a small file, which he handed to Steve. Steve opened it and raised his eyebrows. 

“That’s everything I’ve been able to gather about you,” said Bruce. “It’s not much - a lot of information has been lost to time. Most of what I was able to find comes from your time in the military. But there’s enough to get you started, maybe jog your memory if we’re lucky. There are even a few photos in there that may help.”

The first photo in the bunch was a copy of the one that depicted Steve, Diana, Chief, Sammy, and Charlie, posing among the rubble of Veld. Steve stared at it for a long time, then finally looked up at Diana. 

“We fought together?”

Diana nodded. “Yes. Several times, in the short time we knew each other.”

“I just...I don’t remember any of it.”

Diana stayed quiet while Steve kept flipping through the pages, peering at old documents relating to his family’s home back in Indiana, some photos of the town he grew up in, several pages detailing his role in the military, and a photo of the plaque that stood on the spot where he had made the ultimate sacrifice so many decades ago. It was not, however, until he found a photo of Etta Candy tucked among the papers that he seemed to show a glimmer of recognition. 

“Where do I know her from?” he asked, frowning at the picture. 

“She was your secretary. And a friend,” said Diana quietly. 

“Yeah, she rings a bell.”

He had begun to look exhausted all over again, though he kept on reading, eyes working furiously, willing some bit of information to trigger memories. When he reached the last page, he closed the file and his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Steve, you should lie down and get some rest,” Diana suggested. “You’ve had quite a day.”

“Yeah.”

“We have a guest room upstairs for you,” said Bruce. “And anything else you may need.”

Steve did not move, and Diana could see the tension returning to his body, the distrust still so clear. She wondered what it would take to get him to believe that he would be safe with them. 

“I am happy to show you,” said Diana, as gently as she could. “It’s nice and quiet, with a lovely view. And my room is just down the hall.”

“I made sure to put plenty of space between you and my son,” Bruce added. 

“Son?” Steve repeated. 

“The time to be introduced to Damian will come, but I promise you, it is not now.”

“Well, lead the way, I guess,” said Steve. 

He was moving so slowly it worried Diana, but once inside the manor proper, he seemed to gain a bit more energy. His eyes went wide as he took in the sights, the expensive furnishings, the exquisite works of art, the plush rugs over gleaming wooden floors. When they reached the right hallway, Diana once again was confronted with the suspicion that Alfred possessed some sort of psychic powers, as he was waiting for them outside the room set aside for Steve. 

“Captain Trevor,” said Alfred, his voice full of deep respect. “An honor, sir.”

“I, uh...thank you. Thanks...”

“Alfred Pennyworth. I hope you will find your room comfortable. If there is anything you should require, please do not hesitate to ask.”

Alfred gestured to the door. Steve nodded, looking a little dazed, and went into his room. Diana followed, but maintained a careful distance, watching as Steve took in his surroundings. It had to be overwhelming, going from the hateful little cell to a luxurious, quiet place like that, and Steve looked like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. Alfred had thoughtfully turned down the bed already, and Steve ran a hand over the covers. 

“Are you all right?” Diana asked after a minute.

Steve cleared his throat and sniffed a bit, and when he looked up at her, his eyes were shining slightly. 

“Yeah...yeah, I’m all right.”


End file.
